...

A Dean/Castiel fic.

...

Disclaimer: As is the same with all the fandoms I write for, I do not own Supernatural. Never will ... but seeing Misha shirtless - even for only a second - more than makes up for the sadness I feel at the previously stated fact.

...

A/N: Yeah ... I absolutely love this pairing. I'm really hoping I can successfully bound back and forth between Supernatural and Harry Potter, don't want my readers to get mad at me for ignoring my other fics.

Well, this fic spawned from that scene where Dean said: "You know Cas, not for nothing, but the last person who looked at me like that got laid." Yeah ... I squealed rather loudly when Dean said that ... I admit my fangirl moment, and am now moving past it.

This fic takes place in the scene where (ALERT: SPOILER AHEAD) Castiel goes into the panic room and Dean "banishes" him with the symbol ... just a rewrite of what I think could have happened instead. Not that how Kripke had it done it wasn't absolutely fantastic ...

Anyways, let's get on with the story, shall we?

As always, please read and review, I live for feedback!

Dean didn't know why he'd waited to long to smack his hand on the symbol, but for some reason, he'd called out Castiel's name to let him know what he was doing. It would have worked if he'd kept his mouth shut ... he would have sent the angel god knows where, and he would have escaped from the panic room. But no, he'd opened his mouth, and Castiel had managed to pop up right next to him and stop his hand before it made contact with the symbol.

His grip was tight, and on the verge of painful. Okay ... so I'm gonna pay for that.

Castiel's eyes flashed with anger, pushing Dean back easily with his hand locked into his wrist while his free hand wiped the Enochian symbol away. "That was unwise," Castiel told him, turning to glare at him.

Dean pursed his lips. "In hindsight ... yeah. A little."

Castiel tilted his head while lifting his jaw defiantly, and a second later the door to the panic room slammed closed. Dean was trapped with a very pissed off angel.

"Look, dude, I'm sorry ... but I had to try," Dean offered.

Castiel wasn't interested in his apology, forcing the human back until his back hit the wall less-than-gently. A growl emanated from within the angel's chest, but Dean had little time to contemplate it as Castiel pulled Dean's head forward for a mind-numbing kiss.

With great effort - and a little hesitation - Dean pulled his head to the side, breaking the kiss. "Dude, what the hell?!" he fumed, glancing at the angel out of the corner of his eye, not wanting to chance looking right at him.

Castiel pulled his face around to look at him, no trace of humor or compassion in his eyes. "A simple 'sorry' is not going to suffice, Dean. I see no other way to get through to you."

Dean tried to pull his head away but Castiel kissed him again, pressing his body against Dean's in a more erotic way than he could possibly understand. Dean couldn't have pulled away that time if he tried, and minutes later it was Castiel who broke the kiss. Dean forced himself to stay focused on how wrong the whole thing was, and not how he quite liked the low hum that was running through their joined bodies.

"What - what if I don't want this?" Dean asked, wondering if the angel would force himself on him.

Castiel read his mind, looking deep into Dean's eyes. "You do want this."

Dean quirked an eyebrow. "What makes you so sure?"

"You told me that the last person to look at you as I did got 'laid'," Castiel responded. "I have come to realize that is how you communicate your desires."

Dean considered that for a moment before realizing he should be more put off by the whole thing. "Look, man, this isn't right. I'm not -"

Castiel cut him off, gripping his upper arm where the brand on his skin was. Dean's knees nearly buckled in response, feeling a too-pleasant heat filling his body. "What 'isn't right', is that you are willing to throw away everything everyone has sacrificed for you. Bobby Singer has lost the use of his legs, Sam is fighting with himself every day to keep himself in check. I rebelled from heaven for you. I gave up my entire family, my life as I knew it, for you. I've killed my brothers for you. I'm not about to watch you throw it all away," Castiel informed him. "And I will do whatever it takes to keep you in this room, and away from Michael."

A certain part of Dean's anatomy twitched at that statement, and he knew from the look in Castiel's eyes that he felt it too. Without another word the angel divested Dean of his clothing, removing his own and pushing him down on the small bed.

If it took all night, he would convince Dean to stay put, and not say 'yes' to Michael.

Dean said yes many times that night, but not to Michael. Castiel knew that everyone else in the house could hear their coupling, but that didn't stop him from continuing his actions.

Dean growled in his ear that there was just no way that Castiel could have been a virgin beforehand ... he was too damned good at doing all sorts of things to him.

Castiel figured he was doing the right thing if Dean's spirits had suddenly lifted, and he wasn't set on his suicidal mission to let the archangel in ... and if he enjoyed himself in the process ... well, there were worse things.

The last thing Dean choked out in a husky voice before Castiel silenced him with his mouth was, "See ... you did get laid."

The end.

Just a short little story I couldn't resist writing.

Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful.

Until next time ...!